


The Little Rohirrim

by julieschmulie



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Backstory, Gen, Queer Themes, TW: Misgendering, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Éowyn, tw: deadnaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 13:35:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20797466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julieschmulie/pseuds/julieschmulie
Summary: Éowyn, daughter of Éomund and Théodwyn, is welcomed into the Court of Théoden, and is accepted as a new daughter of Rohan.





	The Little Rohirrim

The little Rohirrim stood in the Hall of the Horsemaster, her uncle Théoden, King of Rohan. Her skin had been scrubbed raw that morning by one of the wet nurses employed in the castle, and her face shone pale and red in the gentle light. She had not visited the court of Théoden for many years, and she was in awe of the open audience room. Large windows ringed the roof and sunlight streamed in, illuminating the frescos that ringed the walls in shades of gold and green.

Images of battle and glory won by her ancestors, painted by the fine craftsmen from across Rohan. She was stunned, and forgot for a second that she was in the audience of the king. She began to drift to get a closer look at the murals, when a strong hand pulled her back into line with her brother, Éomer. 

"Be steady little lord, remember your place." It was her escort, one of the horsemen of her house. Géabryd. His stern eyes scared her, and the way he called her a "little lord" was enough to send her into a fit. They had fought several times over her place as a child of his liege, as well as her insistence that she was not a son. However, before she could respond, Éomer took her hand. 

Her brother was older, taller than she was by a head. His stoic temperament didn't reveal that since their parents had died, he had been lost in grief and his tears. It had been so fast to lose them. Their mother had fallen ill before their father had left to pursue Orcs to Eymn Muil. His soldiers brought back what they could. The children were not allowed to see his body, but Éomer snuck out anyway. He was gone all night, and returned the next morning as white as a sheet and openly weeping. When their mother died 2 weeks later, he retreated to his room, only eating when his sister would bring him food and force him to partake.

Now the two stood in the court, having been told that they were to be adopted by the King. Their mother was his sister, and he wished them to be close, with family. They were to be introduced by Géabryd, who had been looking after them in the month since their mother passed. He approached the throne and kneeled, speaking from a bowed head, long braids brushing the floor.

"Your Majesty, I bring before you the two sons of Théodwyn, the remaining of their house. They come to serve you and the kingdom of Rohan as your wards. Their names are Eomer and Eodred, sons of Eomund." The younger one started to bristle. She had been very clear with Géabryd, she was not a son. Her mother had known this, but she could not get her new guardian to listen to her.

As she steamed, Théoden sat upright in his throne. His long brown hair was heavily braided, and the white in his beard ringed a gentle face. "Thank you, Sir Géabryd. But if you will, I would like to hear from my Sister-Sons in their own words." He rose from his chair, and Eomer immediately dropped into a kneel, dragging his sister down with him. She could tell that he was glaring at the floor hard enough to set it alight, and was squeezing her hand to the point of near pain. Éomer had been the first she told that she was a girl, and he had supported her as best he could, sneaking her jewelry and fine things he traded for with the other children.

Théoden walked before them and kneeled himself, bringing his tall frame eye to eye with the siblings. His brown eyes twinkled as he looked at the two, taking a second to observe before addressing them in a soft voice. "Now, sons of Éomund, what can I do to help you?"

The girl had taken enough of being ignored, and her head snapped up from its deferential position. She spoke fiercely, meeting the King's gaze. "I am not a son. I am a dau-"

As she spoke, she was interrupted by a bark from Géabryd. "Éodred, you are not to speak like this to your king!" However, he was silenced by a hand from Théoden, who held the fierce gaze of the daughter of Eomund calmly.

"It would seem this one has a fight in them." His eyes were calm, and his gentle tone relaxed the girl. "You speak in truth?" She nodded slowly, squeezing the hand of her brother. Théoden smiled at her. "Then you are a brave one, daughter of Éomund. Here, I have something to show you. He stood and offered her his hand. She stood and took it, following him to the wall behind his throne, gazing at the fresco. The scene was of a band of horsemen chasing down a group of orcs, spears shining and held high. Théoden pointed to one of the men in the front of the pack. He was standing in his stirrups, holding his shield high to urge on the others. His face was beautifully framed in long, golden braids.

"Daughter of Éomund, that Horse Lord is Marshall Déomer of Rohan and Brother-Son to the King Fréa. When he was born, he was thought to be a daughter. However, on his 14th name day, he claimed his true self, and proved one of the most brave and noble sons of Rohan. He grew to be the Marshall to the King, and he and his husband were firm members of this family."

The girl was silent, listening in awe. She hung on to the story, drinking to every word Théoden said while trying to seal it into her memory, like the paint in the plaster wall. Theodin took a knee before her, smiling softly. 

"As you see, you are not the first of your kind, and you are certainly not the last. Your predecessors served great, proud lives as the children of Rohan. And I am sure, Sister-Daughter, you will as well. Now, I believe a new name is in order, if you wish?" 

The girl smiled and nodded. "My mother said that my name should be Éowyn, before she died." Tears welled up in her eyes at the memory of their last meeting by the sick bed. Grief passed over Théoden's face for a moment, before he stood and offered his hand. Eowyn took it, and walked with him back to the steps of his throne. She looked over the almost empty room, and saw Eomer standing and beaming a smile at her. Géabryd was solemn, but she could see that he had softened momentarily. 

Théoden spoke. "Eomer, son of Eomund, I present Eowyn, daughter of Eomund and child of Rohan. You two will be as family to me, and I will do all I can to raise you to be the people your parents would have been proud to raise."

And for the first time in weeks, Eowyn found herself crying not of grief, but of happiness at her new home and family.


End file.
